


Jillian Holtzmann, Communicator Extraordinaire

by issiefrancis



Series: Together [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Jillian Holtzmann, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Grief/Mourning, this is not at all like the last one it just felt right to set it in the same universe, where is kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:05:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issiefrancis/pseuds/issiefrancis
Summary: Every relationship has rough patches, right? What could possibly be the reason for Holtzmann suddenly going non-communicado on Erin? Don't worry, you'll find out in the first chapter because I can't keep a goddamn secret!





	1. Breathe

It starts off small, with Holtzmann becoming a little more withdrawn and spending more and more time in her lab. Erin feels rejected. She _is_ rejected. Holtzmann rebuffs her every attempt to talk, and given that their relationship has been the most open and honest one she's been in, she knows that's cause for alarm. Abby knows all of this because Erin tells her everything, shaky, nervous, confused, slightly tipsy on a Friday night.

Abby is _pissed_. Holtzmann knows intimately the scope and focus of Erin's anxieties and she didn't bother to have a conversation with her about November. Abby can understand that – Holtz isn't the best at communicating, even though she tries really hard for Erin. And she knows why Holtz is upset, knows to just let her work and make sure she's looking after herself at least a little. She also knows Holtz isn't going home at night, because her favourite cereal reappears in the kitchen, and the shower is always being used at strange hours. Erin also tells her every morning: _Holtz didn't come home and I'm worried but she just won't talk to me Abby I think she hates me oh god Abby what if this is the end._ And Abby hurts for her best friend, but she hurts for Jillian more because she knows what she's going through.

She disappears in the early hours of the morning to go dumpster diving and comes back with armfuls of junk that she methodically cleans and sorts. She avoids meals and eye contact and Erin. She avoids Abby and her kind words and hugs and blatant attempts at an intervention. She doesn't avoid Patty, who is the only one who doesn't push her, and who firmly rebuffs all of Abby's attempts to get her to step in. "I'm here for Holtzy," is her argument. Abby growls, because _she is too_ , but she also has to be there for Erin.

It's hard being the best friend between two struggling girlfriends, especially when no one is in the wrong.

Abby listens to Erin as Erin cries on her shoulder and gently takes her wineglass when it threatens to spill over. She wishes that Holtzmann had just _talked_ to Erin.

In December, Abby will make sure that they talk if she has to lock them on the roof or in the Ecto-3, but for now, she just tries to reassure Erin and takes Holtzmann food and makes sure she doesn't drink too much or deliberately explode stuff. It's a knife-edge she balances on, and sometimes she cries with Erin because it's all she can do.

When she catches Holtzmann drinking, she confiscates the hard liquor and offers Holtzmann cider instead, and lets her drink away a Saturday night with supervision, because _it could be so much worse_ and she's seen it worse before, and she knows none of them need that. Least of all Holtzmann.

When Erin comes to Abby's apartment at three in the morning a few days later, distraught and drunk, Abby has had it up to here. She tucks her best friend into bed and reassures her that Holtzmann is _just having a hard time_ and _every relationship has rough patches_ and _Erin it's not you god knows it's not you._

Soothed by Abby's voice and platitudes, Erin falls asleep.  

Abby calls Holtzmann, knowing that she'll still be awake. "Holtz. Your girl is here bawling her eyes out about you and I love you so much, but you need to sort this out. I know this is hard for you, but you have to tell her what's going on."

Holtzmann sighs quietly. "I know. I'm sorry, Abby. I'm so sorry." And then Holtzmann is crying down the phone too, and Abby doesn't know how they got to this point. "It's today, Abby, it's too much, it's too _much_." Abby knows what the desperate tone in Holtz's voice means and she has to do something, but she can't leave Erin.

"Holtzy, baby, go to Patty's. Talk to her." Patty knows what's happening with Holtz, not because she was told, but because she just knew. Patty has a sixth sense for these things.

Holtzmann is sobbing softly. "Okay." She takes a few deep breaths.

"Holtz, why don't you take Erin with you, later, today?"

Abby practically hears the shrug. "Thank you. Thank you, Abby."

"Okay, Holtz. I love you."

Holtzmann clicks off.

Abby sleeps (or doesn't sleep) on the couch.

***

Holtzmann picks Erin up the next day and they're both shattered. Erin curls into herself in the passenger seat, and she feels the finality of the moment.

_We're breaking up._

Holtzmann doesn't say a word, and drives with an uncharacteristically steady hand. She parks outside a cemetery.

"Erin, I'm sorry. I know it's been a hard couple of weeks." Holtzmann breathes deeply, willing back tears. Her voice is stilted.

Erin reaches for her hand. "Holtz-"

Holtzmann pulls away. "Sorry. I can't… not right now."

"It's okay."

"My mom is here. And my sister. It's... well, it's been a few years, but today's the day my sister died."

Erin understands. She wishes she could physically comfort her, because words aren't enough, but that's a no-go right now. She has to settle for trying to verbalize it. "Oh, _Holtz_."

Holtzmann stills for a moment, inhaling the crisp air with closed eyes. "Would you like to come with me?"

Erin nods wordlessly.

Holtzmann gets out of the car, stepping heavily. She pulls flowers from the trunk and after a moment of hesitation shakes her head at Erin's pro-offered hand.

Erin follows her through the cemetery, watching Holtzmann's nose turn pink from the cold, feeling her own follow suit. She feels like she's in an alternate reality. Holtzmann stops in front of a headstone and lays half of the flowers out. It's almost clinical, and then Holtzmann buries herself in Erin's arms, crying into her shoulder. Erin holds her, sitting beside the headstone, and when Holtzmann recovers, she talks. It's stilted, awkward, at first, Erin's watching putting her off. Erin smiles encouragingly: this seems so exactly Holtz that she doesn't even question. Holtzmann tells her mom about the Ghostbusters and about Erin and about her inventions, and when she tells her that she's found a family she cries again, this time squeezing Erin's hand until the bones crunch.

Eventually, she stands up. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, Mrs. Holtzmann," Erin says. Holtzmann smiles, red-eyed, at her, and squeezes her hand.

Erin smiles back and follows her the few steps to the next grave.

"Hey, Katie."

Erin takes her cue. "Hi, I'm Erin."

Holtzmann smiles and begins moving her hands. It takes Erin a few seconds to pick up that she's signing. She signs to her sister for a few minutes, and that's when Erin sees the headstone. It's plain and all it says is Kate Holtzmann, 1989-1996.

"She was seven?" Erin blurts without thinking.

Holtz leans against Erin. "Yeah." Erin squeezes her shoulder, curious despite herself. Holtzmann answers her unasked question. "She was non-verbal. More autistic than me. She died in the foster home because they didn't know how to deal with her. I was at school."

Erin can't form the words to express her sympathy. Holtzmann shrugs, not looking at her. "You're the only person who knows that."

Erin nods, leaning her head on Holtzmann's shoulder, trying to convey her feelings. They sit in silence for a while, Holtz's hands moving slowly over each other. Eventually, she gets up and drives them back to Abby's place, Erin following along without question.

The drive back is as silent as the drive there, but they can both breathe again.

Abby just hugs Holtzmann when they get back, whispering, "I'm proud of you, Jillian, and she would be too."

To Erin she says, "Breathe."

They go home together and Holtzmann curls up on her lap and sleeps. Erin can feel the dampness of her crying through her dreams, and it breaks her heart. She lets a few tears of her own fall, for the people Holtzmann has loved and lost. For a system that treats children like carbon copies and numbers in computer systems. For her own mom, who isn't dead but might as well be.

At some point Holtzmann wakes up and they stumble to bed and cling together. It's the only way to stop themselves falling apart.  


	2. Signs

When Holtzmann presents Erin with her Very Serious List, she's not making eye contact and she's pinching her hand. "What's this, babe?" Erin already knows that Holtz is uncomfortable; she's unconsciously familiar with most of the signs.

She shrugs, still not looking at Erin.

"Holtzy, breathe," Erin says absent-mindedly. "Should I read it?"

Holtzmann nods stiltedly.

"Thank you for trusting me," she adds more seriously. "Hey, Holtz." She reaches out her hand but stops short of the touching. "Hug?"

Holtzmann tilts her head and then nods, settling on Erin's lap. Erin reads over Holtz's shoulder, smoothing out her hand from pinching herself. "You're stressed about this, huh?"

"Mmm hmm. I'm… taking too much." Holtz isn't eloquent with her feelings at the best of times, let alone when she's tired and grieving.

"You think you're being selfish because you're asking for something?" Erin translates carefully.

"Kinda." Holtz doesn't elaborate.

Erin reads through the list. "Oh – I've noticed the stimming thing. I didn't have a word for it before."

"Mmm." Holtzmann still seems uncomfortable, so Erin puts down the list and gently tugs her elbow.

"You okay, Holtzy?"

"Mmm-mmm." She shakes her head, hugging Erin and putting her nose in the crook of her neck.

They embrace, and Erin isn't surprised to feel tears on her shoulder. "Oh, Holtzy." She strokes Holtzmann's wrist in a gentle pattern to calm her. "I'll try to keep all this in mind, okay? Can I kiss you?" Holtz nods, and Erin kisses her softly.

"Thank you for taking me seriously." Holtzmann smiles waveringly.

"I love you very much. I'm sorry that I didn't realise you were upset and not mad at me."

"It's okay. Not very good at telling you things." Holtz shrugs.

"And I know that. I should have been more aware." Erin nods firmly.

"It's not your fault. Just a bit of a miscommunication."

Erin ducks her head, acknowledging the point. "I made you a list, too. I was just too nervous to give it to you. I thought you would laugh."

Holtzmann shakes her head, uncharacteristically serious. "Our relationship is important to me, Erin. I would never make you feel bad."

Erin shakily smiles and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. Her list is bullet-pointed and reads:

_When you shut me out without telling me why._

_When I'm tired and get slimed._

_When I have my period._

Holtzmann raises an eyebrow. "I took that one for granted."

Erin crinkles her nose. "Just get on with it."

_When my anxiety gets the better of me and I keep reading into everything you do as a rejection._

"Oh, Er. You have to _tell_ me when that happens, okay? I don't want you to unduly stress, but I'm not a mind reader, babe."

"I know. 's why it's on the list." Erin sniffles.

Holtzmann reads the rest of the list, occasionally drawing in breath.

"Does it really make you that stressed when I forget to eat?"

Erin nods vulnerably. "I want you to take care of yourself. I worry about you."

"I'll try." Holtzmann says this with a conviction behind it that Erin doesn't doubt.

They lean together for a moment. "Are we… are we going to make this work?" Erin asks softly.

"Of course, my love. Always."

They share a gentle kiss.

"So… better communication?" Holtz asks.

"Better communication," Erin confirms. "But if you can't talk out loud, will you communicate in other ways? How can you tell me you're not doing so great?"

"See, we're doing better already." Holtzmann swings around and smiles down at her girlfriend. "Want me to teach you some sign language?"

"Yes, please?" Erin squeezes Holtz's hand.

"Here, like this…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was so short! It felt right though. Hope you enjoyed :*

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, in other news, I can't write anything that isn't autistic Holtzmann, and I can't write anything that isn't dramatic as fuck. God bless Abby and Patty for putting up with all the shit the Holtzbert writers put them through.


End file.
